The pool scares me. I just stare at it, and dip my toe in, while I try to figure it out.
My particular pool is a new friendship. I don’t get a lot of social invitations. Between my PTSD and depression, I’ve not socialized on any grand level in a long time. I do get out to see friends, but only a choice few, and not on any regular basis.
Jack is a new friend. He was originally a match.com date where we both mutually decided we weren’t right for each other. Then, shortly thereafter, he asked me via email if I was interested in a friendship. In that moment I remembered asking Carlene in girl scouts if we could be friends, and she just gave me this uncomfortable look. In that moment when I read Jack’s email I thought to myself, “The rules changed? It’s ok to ask for friendship? Where have I been?”
I was invited over for dinner, and you would have thought my elation meant I had been asked to the ball. Something as seemingly pedestrian as a dinner invitation does not come around very often for me. When I was actively alcoholic I was known as the “fun girl” and I had plenty of social invitations, but the transition into sobriety has not been smooth socially. There’s no other way to say it. It’s been lonely.
We made dinner, and talked. We really talked, not just news, weather and sports bullshit which bores me.
I enjoyed his company, but I didn’t want to like it too much. I think I’ll stay in the shallow part of the pool for now.
(Photo credit: freefotouk)